Perriwinkle's Debut
by shalom378
Summary: Katniss and Peeta have decided against children- too many painful memories will be brought up. But when an unplanned pregnancy strikes, what will happen to Katniss's marriage, friends, and life?


_ White rose petals are everywhere. Littering the ground, covering housetops, falling from the sky. I sink ankle-deep into the overpowering smell of my enemies' emblem. Suddenly, a hand on my left shoulder whip me around, and I am face to face with… President Snow. A cold chill runs up my spine. "Wh-what do you want?" I stammer. The President's evil face twists into a cruel smile, and he points straight at… my stomach? Confused, I step back, but not before he grabs my shoulder again, and I scream, loud enough to reach the Capitol's hateful ears, lashing out, and…_

"Katniss?" Peeta's concerned face hovers in my vision, his hand shaking me back to reality. I sit up with a gasp, trembling. Peeta reaches out and pulls me to him. I breathe in the comforting scent of baker's bread as he asks, "Was it that dream again?" I nod. After a few minutes of this warm embrace, he's the first to pull away. "I better get to work." I frown and plead, "Just a little longer?" He smiles and kisses me softly, then tucks a lock of my auburn hair behind my ear. "'Bye." I roll my eyes. "See ya," I mutter. He smiles and slides out of bed, then changes into jeans and a white T-shirt. Pulling on his brown jacket on his way out of the bedroom, he tosses over his shoulder, "You know, you're really adorable when you're mad." I glare and stick my tongue out at him, relishing the sound of his rich laughter carrying down the hall. It's been a year since the Capitol was overtaken; yet my nightmares becoming more vivid than ever. Lately, my dreams have been haunted by the President wanting to… have my stomach…? I have yet to interpret the dream. Troubling thoughts fill my head, and the room becomes stifling until I'm gasping for breath. Panting, I throw the covers back and shove my feet into my boots, then shrug into my winter jacket and run out the door, grabbing my bow and sheath of arrows from the chair.

Ever since I had fallen in love with the woods, it became my solace. It was a world away from the slums of District 12, a refuge and even a source of food. Taking a walk in the woods has always calmed me, and it does today, too. I don't really need to hunt (Peeta and I have all the food we need and more in our Capitol-made house) but the people of 12 count on me to bring food to the poorest parts of the city. I make my way through the familiar path that my father had blazed so long ago, and breathe the familiar scent of pine and wood. Slinging my bow over my shoulder, I hoist myself up a nearby tree. Once I'm secure in the curve of a branch, I pull my bow off my shoulder and notch an arrow. About ten minutes of waiting brings forth a large white hare, shot cleanly through the eye. I jump out of the tree and collect my kill, heading back towards the town, swinging the rabbit by its ears. But as soon as I pass under the chain-link fence my head clouds with disturbing thoughts of the night's events, and I find my feet taking me to the person I know will cheer me up.

Haymitch opens the door after two minutes of insistent rapping. He leans against the door frame with bottle in hand and bursts out, "Well, look who we have here! A real..." He struggles for the right words. "...gem." the whiskey on his breath is so intense I have to breathe through my mouth. I push past Haymitch and toss the meat on the mahogany table. "Brought you some food," I told him, indicating the hare. Haymitch nodded and squinted at the table. "I always love more... deer meat," he says, slurring his words considerably. I walk over to him and lead him upstairs to the four-poster bed. He collapses onto it, and I catch the whiskey bottle just in time before it hits the oak floor. "You should get some sleep," I tell him, but by now he's incoherent, babbling about how "...the Games are just puzzles" and "the white liquor is stronger than that..." I cross over to the attached bathroom and dump the spirits down the drain, then toss the bottle in the trash and leave.

On my way home, I stop by the Hob to exchange a few words with Greasy Sae and to barter for some stew. Ironically, hunting puts an edge on my hunger. When I arrive at the dingy square, a crowd of people are buying and selling, trading and bartering in every inch of the Hob. Great, I think sarcastically. I have become quite popular throughout the world (little wonder there), and am still not accustomed to everyone knowing my name. So I pull my hood up over my face and quickly walk over to Greasy Sae's stall. Sliding into one of the rickety old stools, I lay a gold piece down on the counter and ask for a bowl of squirrel stew. Sae pats my hand and slides the coin into her pocket. "You seem out of sorts today, Katniss. Or is it Mrs. Mellark?" The tease goes out of her eyes when I say, "Nothing yet." A look of concern takes Sae's face, and she clasps my hand in her leathery palm. "What's wrong?" I sigh and relay my dream to her. She frowns. "What does it mean?" I ask. Sae shakes her head. "It means... well..." "Yes?" I ask. "I'm not sure I sh-" I cut her off. "I've survived the Games, an uprising, and my sister being murdered. I think I'll be alright." Sae nods and continues. "This can only mean one thing- you're pregnant."

When Prim's name was called on Reaping Day, I felt like all the air was sucked out of me; I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, my body in denial of the life-changing news. This is exactly how I feel now- the world tilts, and I feel strong hands on my back. Frantic voices penetrate my sleepy thoughts, and the last thing I see before blacking out is the bright blue sky.

_ White rose petals are everywhere. Littering the ground, covering housetops, falling from the sky. I sink ankle-deep into the overpowering smell of my enemies' emblem. Suddenly, a hand on my left shoulder whip me around, and I am face to face with… President Snow. A cold chill runs up my spine. "Wh-what do you want?" I stammer. The President's evil face twists into a cruel smile, and he points straight at… my stomach. I look down, and realize in horror that my belly is huge and swollen with life. This time, before he can grab me, I turn and run, screaming "Peeta, Peeta..."_

"Peeta!"

I shoot straight up and start to panic. This is not my house- where am I? "Katniss? It's okay, I'm right here!" Peeta comes to my side, rubbing my back and kissing my hair. I lean into him, the only familiar thing in my world. "Where are we?" I whisper. Peeta sits back into a chair and takes my hand. "You fell in the Hob and hit your head on a counter top. Some men brought you here, to the hospital. The doctor's running some tests..." "What kind of tests?" I ask. My voice has an edge that is more panicked than curious. Peeta looks down. "Blood tests. To make sure you're okay." I can tell he's hiding something from me. I touch his cheek in a week attempt to be seductive. "And...?" I try to wean the answer from him. Peeta looks up into my eyes. "A pregnancy test."

I bring my hand to my mouth, pulling from his grasp. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, and I sink back into the pillow. His voice goes on about how it's just a precaution, and you're probably NOT- pregnant, that is... I can feel his hand stroking my hair. "I know you don't want us to have kids because of Gale, but-" I fling open my eyes and sit up to face him. "Is that what you think? That I'm still romanticizing over Gale?" I can feel an angry blush spreading up my neck. Peeta leans back, startled. "Can you imagine the stories I'd have to tell them? About the Hunger Games, how we met, Rue, Prim..." My voice cracks, but the words are coming faster and I can't stop, " Do you think I want to re-live that?" Before Peeta can respond, the door opens and in sweeps a nurse in starch-white uniform. "Looks like you're all set to go, Ms. Everdeen!" Peeta's blue eyes flicker to me, then to the nurse. "Mrs. Mellark," he states coldly. The nurse looks flustered, but recovers and replies cheerily, "Of course. And take care of yourself, Katniss! Wouldn't want to get hurt in your condition!" Peeta asks faintly, "Condition? You don't mean..." The nurse smiles and bobs her head. "You're pregnant!" I bring my hands to my face to try and staunch the flow of tears careening down my cheeks. This can't be real. I hear Peeta dismissing the nurse, and then returning to my side. By now, I am sobbing, curled up and facing the wall in a hopeless mess of despair. Peeta puts one arm under my shaking shoulders and another under my knees, then lifts me up and carries me out through the door, out of the office, and away from that hateful place. I clutch his neck, my tears running freely onto his vest, but I don't make a noise. By the time Peeta carefully lays me in my own, soft bed, I am too numb to feel anything. He pulls the covers up under my chin and kisses my cheek, then leaves. I wish he had stayed was my last though before I succumbed to the thick tendrils of sleep.  
I awake to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. I turned my head to find Peeta occupying the other half of our shared bed. Peeta looks so sleepy and sweet, that I lean over and give him a long kiss. His eyes fling open wide in surprise, but then melts into me, entwining his hands in my hair. When I pull away, he smiles dreamily and says, "Good morning to you, too." When he recalls the dramatic events of the previous night, his face clouds with worry. "You're not… upset? About yesterday?" I groan and flop back onto the pillow, wishing we could've avoided the topic for a little longer. "I…I'll be fine," I decide wobbly. Peeta frowns, but doesn't say anything; instead, he just strokes my hair. Under the covers, I rest my hand on my stomach. Maybe… maybe this is what I need. What we both need. Peeta puts his hand over mine and whispers, "We'll tell her together."

SIX MONTHS LATER

Even the slightest of movements has become a chore. My stomach is now fully extended, revealing the miracle inside. I remember my mother's words on a woman who had come in her second day of labor; after delivering a healthy baby boy, my mother told me that the first child is always the hardest. Thinking of my mother brings tears to my eyes, and I angrily brush them away. "Damn hormones," I mutter. Peeta reaches over across the breakfast table and holds my hand. "You all right?" he asks. I roll my eyes and say, "Being seven months pregnant is kind of a first for me." Peeta chuckles and sits back in his chair. "I'm taking the day off of work for your appointment. We can go together." I gape at him. "You said your boss wouldn't let you take sick days!" " I told him it was a pregnant day," Peeta said teasingly. I laughed so hard I choked on my coffee. He's been so kind lately- massaging my aching back, making breakfast, running to the Hob at four A.M. to satisfy my latest craving. A true gentleman.  
After the table is cleared, we set off towards the hospital for my scheduled appointment with my midwife, Dr. Graham. Walking hand in hand, Peeta asks, "Do you hope for a boy or a girl?" "As long as she's healthy, I don't care about the gender," I say offhandedly. "As long as she's healthy?" Peeta inquires. I giggle and give him a shove. "Stop it!" Peeta grins and takes my hand again. "A girl would be nice. So, how 'bout a name? I was thinking something to remember your sister." I stop dead in my tracks. I haven't thought about Prim in so long… the memories are still too painful. "Katniss?" He puts his arms around me and my large baby bump. "Sorry," I say, pulling back and wiping my tears. It's embarrassing how easily I can cry these days. "It's okay," he whispers. We continue in silence for a while, and then I say, "Poppy. Or Perriwinkle." Peeta looks confused. "What?" I smile. "They're names that start with P." He smiles back. "Perriwinkle. I like that."

Once we reach the office and sign in at the front desk, Dr. Graham appears and leads us to an isolated room with a hospital bed, two chairs, and various machines. "It looks like a torture cell," I whisper to Peeta. He gives my hand a little squeeze. "All right, Mrs. Mellark, just have a seat right here," says the doctor, patting the crinkly paper of the hospital bed. I cross over and sit. Peeta pulls up a chair and holds my hand. The doctor pulls over what looks like a mini television on wheels and dons a pair of plastic gloves on with a _snap._ "I'm going to need you to lie down and lift your shirt up over your stomach," says Dr. Graham. I obey, gripping Peeta's hand the whole time. The doctor spreads cool gel over my large stomach and runs a rubber-like instrument over it. I turn my head to see a small human form illuminated on the screen. "There's your baby!" The doctor says cheerily. Peeta smiles and whispers, "There's our baby, Katniss." I like the sound of that. The doctor frowns, and I ask quickly, "What's wrong?" clears her throat and says, "Well, the baby is very small. She may cause problems, but nothing to worry about yet."

Once we're home, I retreat upstairs for a nap-which escalates into a four-hour sleep. I am awoken by the sound of someone knocking on the front door. Remembering that Peeta had gone out for some groceries, I groan and heave myself off the bed. "You sure make it hard to do much of anything, Perri," I say, rubbing my hand fondly across my belly. Upon opening the door, I exclaim, "Gale!" When we hug, I almost swoon in pleasure- he smells just the way he always did so long ago, just like the pine trees of the woods. I invite him in, and he stands in the front hall looking a bit out of place. He gestures to my stomach. "How is she?" I smile and pat my belly. "Large. Due in two months." He nods, then crosses over to the table and sets down a paper bag. "I brought you some blackberries. Wild ones. From the woods." He smiled faintly. "Since you can't really get them yourself." I snort and roll my eyes. "Good point. Thank you." We stand there awkwardly for a moment, until I find myself locked in his secure embrace. We don't kiss, of course. I'm pregnant with Peeta's child. But i can't help feeling a sense of bitter sweetness while he holds me. Suddenly, I feel Perri give a small flutter, and I gasp. Gale pulls away, startled. "What's wrong?" I grab Gale's hand and lay it where the baby just moved. "This is the most I've felt her!" I say in awe. The joy on Gale's face says it all- he forgives me.

Once Gale has left, I sit at the table and eat all the luscious berries my maxed-out belly can handle. I throw away the bag and wash my hands to try and get rid of my colored fingertips, resulting in a lighter, less noticeable shade of purple. I'm not trying to hide Gale's visit... it's just that Peeta doesn't need to know. Just as I'm wiping up with a dishtowel, Peeta enters and sets various bags on the table. "Hello, love. How are you... and Perri?" he asks. I set down the towel and give him a strong hug; well, as strong as a seven-month-pregnant girl can be. He hugs me back, then leans down and kisses my belly. "Can't wait to meet you, Perri," he whispers, then stands back up and takes my hand. Turning it over skeptically, he asks, "What's this from?" My heart jumps into my throat, but I swallow it down and state, "Berries." "Oh?" Peeta says. "Where from?" I turn around and grab the rag, trying to hide my boiling emotions. "The woods," I say offhandedly. Peeta grabs my shoulders and spins me around. "Wait- you went into the woods by yourself?!" "Of course not!" I snap, brushing his hand off of me. "I'm not stupid. If you must know, Gale brought them over." Peeta's face clouds. "Why was _he _here?" with little attempt to hide the disdain in his voice. I am suddenly angry. How could he have such little trust in me. "How can you even think that I would... _cheat _on you? I used to love him, but it's over now! I love _you!_" My words came out in a tumble, and hot anger flashed through me. Peeta spoke softly, "I'm sorry, I just... I'm not used to this new life yet. I love you, and the baby, but I'm still adjusting, and-" I cut him off. "How long is it going to take for you to...adjust? Two years with me apparently isn't going to cut it?! Yeah, well, I guess-" A wave of white-hot pain tears through my abdomen and leaves me reeling. I stagger back, breathless, and Peeta rushes to my side. "Katniss? What's wrong?" I can't answer, the pain's too intense, and my breath comes in short little gasps. "The...baby..." I huff. Peeta's eyes, blue pools of frantic ice, snap to my stomach. "You're only seven months along! It's just one contraction, just wait it out, okay?" I nod, but in my head I think _no, NOT okay! _Peeta grabs a stool and I perch on the corner, clutching my stomach. He comes behind me, wrapping one arm over my stomach and the other rubbing the small of my back. "It's okay," he whispers into my hair, "It's going to be fine." I slowly sit up. "I think... I think its gone." Peeta releases me and nods, still holding my hand. But just then I double over again as my stomach muscles tighten and my back goes up in flames. "Get the... doctor," I manage to get out. Peeta jumps up, and runs to the phone. Everything is going dark, and my world tilts. _Déjà vu,_ I think, before I slip into oblivion.

I flutter my eyes. Light is streaming in through an open window, and I place my hand where the reassuring bump is... but find only a tender, raised scar. I sit up and throw back the covers, taking in my surroundings. _I'm in the hospital. _My head feels full of wool, and I turn to the right to find Peeta, his torso on the foot of my bed and his hips in a chair. He looks so lovely and tired at the same time; his hair all rumpled and a sleeve imprint on is cheek. I scoot over to him and lightly brush the hair from his face, then whisper, "You're so good to me. I don't deserve you." A single tear falls from my cheek to his, and he stirs but doesn't awake. Suddenly, I hear a snuffling. I whip around and see a plastic bassinet with a tiny pink bundle inside. I stand up carefully and cross over to it. Inside is my baby girl, her face is all scrunched and her dainty fingers wagging. "Hi, Perri. Welcome to the world." I gingerly touch her curly mop of black hair, her peaked lips, her tiny fingernails. I feel Peeta's arms wrap around me, and I turn into him, instantly wrapped in his warm embrace. "You did it," He whispers. I nod. "Can I- hold her?" I ask, looking up into his eyes. He laughs. "She's yours- of course you can!" The first time I took her in my arms, I was terrified. She hardly tipped the scale at four pounds, and the doctors and nurses said she was lucky to be alive. I felt terror course through me- what if I messed up? But looking into that sweet little face, I knew she'd forgive me. Peeta and I will always love her, and I knew that with Peeta, I could tell her those stories. Someday.

THE END


End file.
